Callsign Voodoo
by elusivemuse
Summary: AU season one onwards. Evelyn "Voodoo" Madden joins the crew on Galactica, bringing her own kind of strange onboard. Meeting new people, surviving the holocaust and learning to live and love once more, what does the world have in store for her now? OC/?
1. Chapter 1

**New Battlestar Galactica fic to get me back into the swing of writing over the holidays. Hope you enjoy. Don't own Battlestar Galactica, would love to hear what you think though ^^ AU all the way**

**One year earlier…**

William "Bill" Adama watched the simulation over and over again. The pilot was good, apart from a few rookie mistakes that could easily be punched out with the right instructor. Prone to flying by gut instinct rather than training, he could easily see the pilot assimilating into his crew easily. He liked having a well rounded team of pilots, each one offering that extra something special to fit with his girl.

Her file was open before him, the comments from her instructions there for his perusal. With a sigh, he pinched his nose, perching his glasses on top of his head, selecting new crew was an irritating business to be sure, but not one that he wanted to pass off to anyone else. Each and every one of his crew on board of Galactica was hand chosen by him, known by him, and it wasn't going to change, at least not until he was forced to give up his commission.

"This one must be interesting," came the slurred voice of his XO beside him. As usual, the aging Colonel Tigh had a cup in his hand and a stogie in the other. "You've been on her for a while. She looks like another Starbuck if you ask me."

"Good thing I'm not asking you," Bill replied, glancing down at the file. "She's an interesting one, that's for sure. Lt. Evelyn "Voodoo" Madden, fairly standard pilot, more well known for her out of the box thinking and her obsession with the mystical. Always has some kind of talisman or idol with her when she flies. Apparently a bit of a superstitious woman."

"Where does she hail from?"

"Sagittarion," Bill replied, silently rolling his eyes at his friend's scoff.

"Nothing but a bunch of mystics, there," Tigh moved closer to the screen, drunkenly staring at a maneuver. "Have to admit, she does have some pretty fly moves."

"I can't pair her up with Starbuck, their styles are too showy and similar, they need someone more steady, more by-the-book."

"Lt. Sutton," Tigh supplied, peeking at the file. "He'd be a good influence to get her to be a little more subtle with the mysticism, not to mention he's a damned good pilot."

Bill took a swallow of coffee, considering the pair. "Burner? I think you might be onto something there."

"Shame Lee wasn't commissioned to Galactica, he might have been good for her as well," his friend said, taking a mouthful out of his cup before standing, somewhat unsteadily. "I'm gonna get some rack time, don't stay up all night with this, though, get some sleep."

"No promises," Bill grinned, before turning back to the screen. Tigh sighed and walked out of the quarters, shaking his head. "Welcome to the Galactica, Lt. Madden," he murmured, before filling out a request form and grabbing the file for the next candidate.

* * *

Evelyn Madden and Willa Knox pushed through the crowds of Academy students, eager to see their postings. Somewhat smaller than Willa, Evelyn moseyed through the small gaps, dragging her friend by the hand behind her. It was the day everyone was waiting for, the true start of their careers. Long nights, coffee highs, study sessions, it all led to that one moment.

"God, I hope I get on the Pegasus," Willa said hopefully. "Where are you hoping to get stationed at?"

"Solaria or Triton, I've heard great things about their commanders," replied Evelyn. Sighing, she pushed her black hair off her face. "The only thing is you never get the one you want." Willa laughed at her.

"You seriously can't believe that drivel, Voodoo."

"Urban legends always have some aspect of truth," she said lightly.

"Yeah, and most of them are made up from bored students who want to play a prank on everyone." Evelyn rolled her eyes as she finally made it to the front, her gaze flickering through the names until she reached hers. It was like a bucket of cold water thrown down her back. _Battlestar Galactica, Viper Pilot._

"Still don't believe in the myths," she pointed out stubbornly, only to be faced with her friend's ecstatic expression.

"I GOT IN ON PEGASUS!" Willa's happy cry could be heard all the way down the hall. Evelyn felt as though she got kicked in the teeth. How had her friend got the post that she wanted while she was stuck on an aging boat with no real chance at promotion? It wasn't fair! All of her hard works, all of her training, all down the drain. Everyone agreed, that all though Commander Adama was one of the best commanders during peace time after the first Cylon war, by now he was just a washed up has-been of an officer. Promotions were few and far between on his vessel.

Placing a false smile on her lips, Evelyn congratulated her friend. "That's great, Willa, you're going to get places with Admiral Cain."

"I know she's a hard ass," Willa said giddily, "But she's such an amazing woman, to get where she is at her age…!"

Evelyn nodded slowly. "Well, guess we had better start packing."

* * *

The space dock was busy, loud with rumbling engines, excited yells, furious orders and rushing people. Sitting in the lounge waiting for her Raptor, Evelyn watched everything with morbid fascination. It was like watching bees around a hive, but the hive being the Battlestars.

It was weird seeing the majestic ships being placed in dry dock, it's seemed to make the girls seem so much less threatening, less noble….just less…and it wasn't right, the ships were the worlds' protectors, seeing them so vulnerable, their insides in full view, seemed just so wrong. Sighing, she turned away, her foot rhythmically kicking her duffle bag. It wouldn't be too long before she would be called to be transported to her post, and despite her disappointment in being placed on an aging Battlestar, she couldn't wait to be a part of something so much bigger, to serve as a protector.


	2. Chapter 2

**Another chapter ready for you guys to read. I want to thank Tsuki no Yasha for reviewing, thanks chickadee ^^ and the next chapter of Closing of an Era (another bsg fic) should be out in about half an hour to an hour.**

**Don't own BSG no matter how much I want to…and I'm not making any money from this ^^**

**

* * *

**

**One year Previous…first day on Battlestar Galactica…**

"…_I want to make one thing clear: On my ship, I don't have sheep. If you have a talent, I want to see it…if you have a plan, I want to hear it….If you want to go home, get off my ship right now, you don't have the balls to fight on a Battlestar…" Commander Adama painted a fierce picture, a loyal one, a passionate one, and suddenly, to Evelyn, serving on the old girl didn't seem so bad…_

_

* * *

_

**One year later…**

"It's a bad omen, Helo, you have to agree with me on this one," Evelyn growled, stamping her foot lightly. "Making Galactica a museum is catastrophic, especially with the terrorism that's happening right now. At least make the old girl a peacekeeping vessel."

Karl "Helo" Agathon smirked at his friend, seeing her wild black hair bristle with agitation. The woman reminded him of a little kitten, barely old enough to have claws, or at least until she got into a cockpit…then he was glad to be on her side, rather than the enemy. The woman certainly knew how to fly a viper with deadly accuracy, although it was unsurprising when he took into account the fact that Starbuck had taken her under her wing.

The thought of them both out there at once terrified him.

"While I agree that decommissioning the Galactica is a bad, bad thing, I hardly think it's a bad omen, Voodoo."

"Of course it is, not only does the Military have an influx of people needing new positions and is down one vessel…the paperwork _has_ to be a bitch to contend with." Helo laughed and reached over the table to ruffle her hair.

"That's not an omen, sweetheart, that's just fact, plain and simple," he stated with a grin. Evelyn pouted a little in response.

"I just have a bad feeling, and nothing I've done has done anything to ease it." Helo sobered, her bad feelings generally proved something was up, although occasionally she was wrong, and he hoped severely that she was wrong. No one aboard was really ready for a crisis, not this close to the ship being decommissioned.

"I'll keep an eye out," he promised. Spotting Kara 'Starbuck' Thrace walking into the officer's lounge, he grinned at Evelyn. "Want to play some Pyramid with the rest of us?"

She gave him a flat stare. "Do I look stupid enough to say goodbye to my money to Starbuck?" Helo let out a booming laugh and kissed her forehead as he got out of his chair and moved over to their blonde friend. Rolling her eyes at him, she watched as he left, cutting one of the finest figures she had ever seen. He was large, muscular, but lean as well, like a panther. Every time she saw him she was reminded of a warrior of legend, the hero, and the savior…a man with a moral compass that would never be compromised. Sighing, she turned away from the thought. It wasn't as if he'd ever be interested in her, his eyes were drawn to his Raptor pilot, Sharon 'Boomer' Valerie. She finger waved at her friend and left the room, tossing around the idea to visit the gym or not.

* * *

Pilot briefing was dull and long, something that Evelyn loathed with a passion, especially after being told that she wasn't picked to fly in formation with the others. However, there were two bright moments, one being told why Starbuck was in the brig, yet again, and the other was the Commander's son.

He was so different to what she was expecting, lean, and clean cut, a pure, unadulterated _man_. His hair, despite being brown, fought to be considered red. Biting her lip, she watched him for a while, considering him, his body language…he didn't want to be there, around them, but his passion for flying, it brought her a strange sense of hope over the foreboding feeling she had been having the past few days. If he stuck around, she had a good feeling that whatever bad thing that happened, could be conquerable…but only if he stayed.

Slipping her hand into her pocket, she fingered her tiny statue of Hera, a gift from her mother for graduating the Academy. Sighing, she turned her attention back to the front, her eyes immediately drawn to Helo at the front. A small smile played at her lips, the poor guy, normally a Viper pilot, stuck with the one Raptor pilot that couldn't land properly.

As though hearing her thoughts, Helo turned around and gave her a light smile, then nodded at the Commander's son. Did they know each other? Evelyn mentally shrugged; it was a question she could ask him during chow time. They never really had any secrets between them.

Hiding a yawn behind her hand, Evelyn turned back to her CAG and tried to focus back onto his words, no matter how irritating his monotone voice was.

* * *

Staring at her dress uniform, Evelyn let out a sound of distaste. The damned thing never fit properly, and when she had to wear it, she was stuck in the itchy thing for hours on end. If she was in the fraking ceremony, she wouldn't have had to deal with it, but thanks to the all mighty hand of the CAG she was left standing on ceremony. Who knew the amounts of times she fell asleep during his briefing would one day come and bite her back in the ass?

Helo walked in, a smirk gracing his lips as he was pushed by Boomer. Looking over towards Evelyn, he let out a laugh. "Gods, you're stuck wearing Dress grays?"

"This is all your fault," Evelyn growled. "I don't know how exactly, but I know it's your fault."

"Sure, sure," he grinned. "Anyway, Boomer and I need to get our survival packs, for when we're, you know, in the ceremony…"

He had to duck as Evelyn threw a pillow at him. "Damn, Boomer, I'm glad I'm not you, being stuck with this asshole all the time." The other woman smirked.

"He's learning, I've just about got him house trained."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thought I'd try something new with this one ^^ hope you like it. As I said in the other chapters, I don't own Battlestar Galactica, no matter how badly I wish that was true, and no, I'm not making any money out of this. To my two faithful reviewers, I hope this chapter satisfies you temporarily until I can get a new chapter out ^^**

**Please read, enjoy and review…that makes me pump out more chapters faster ^^**

"_Action stations, Action stations, set Condition One throughout the ship. This is not a drill._"

The alarms blared, sending everyone in a frenzy. Evelyn stared in shock at the speakers for a moment, the red alarm light flickering over her horror stricken face. Jumping up, she left her supply requests scattered on the table, racing towards the Pilot's Ready Room.

"_Repeat: Action Stations, Action Stations. Set Condition One throughout the ship. This is not a drill_."

All the pilots left on the ship converged into one room, grabbing their Viper suits and changing within seconds. Boots were zipped, buckles clasped, survival packs checked and clipped on, pistols holstered and at the ready.

Grabbing the hair tie from her wrist, Evelyn pulled up her hair into a tight braid, ready to be hidden beneath her neckline and helmet. She perched at the end of the seat, staring at up at the speaker, waiting for more news, more information…

Where was Helo? Where was the CAG? At a time like this, they were both desperately needed…unless…Unless the Fleet were playing a retirement joke on the Old Man…that had to be it, it just had to! The others around her, Zesty, Rider, Snoopy, Slammer, they all fidgeted around, wondering what the hell was going on. If it wasn't some kind of cosmic joke, Starbuck would be on her way to them, out of the brig with her guns firing at the enemy.

Suddenly the speaker hummed a report on its way. "_This is the Commander. Moments ago, this ship received word that a Cylon attack against our homes is underway_." Evelyn felt like a hole was punched through her chest. Was he serious? Cylons? _Willa_… "_We do not yet know the size or disposition or strength of our enemy forces…_"

She looked at her fellow pilots, most were white with terror, others silent and resolute. She couldn't help but think about her wing man, Burner, out there with her CAG.

"…_But all indications point to a massive assault against Homeworld defenses_." It was completely silent now, everyone listening intently, waiting on word of their home worlds, their families, the fleet, any news that could bring hope or shatter it. "_Admiral Nagala has taken personal command of the Colonial Fleet aboard the Battlestar Atlantia…following the destruction of Fleet Headquarters in the first wave of the attacks._"

Everyone gasped, the life sucked out of everyone. The headquarters had their strongest defenses, the most Battlestars around it. It had to be a joke, it was simply impossible to fathom anything on that scale to be true.

"_How this could've happened, why it happened—none of that matters now. All that does matter is that as of this moment, we are at war_." It couldn't be true. "_Further updates as we get them. Thank you_." Evelyn swallowed, her hand shaking as it covered her mouth. All those lives, taken, where, she had no clue, but all those lives…! All around her were words of disbelief and horror, combined with the sharp sting of sorrow and mourning. Her bad feeling at last had an explanation.

* * *

"Come on!" Everyone looked up as Starbuck waltzed into the Ready Room, the deck gang close behind her. For some reason, Evelyn felt marginally better. "We've got fighters in the starboard hanger, let's move it people! There's a war going on!"

Glancing to and fro, it was by mutual decision that they all darted after the pistol of a pilot. She marched on like a cocky war hero, her knowledge, her experience what made her leader. It was small wonder why Evelyn looked up to her, tried to follow in her example, but she could never quite seem to pull off Starbuck's attitude, she was still too soft, too feminine. Kara was one of the guys, and used it to her full ability.

The large group, ground crew and pilots, burst through the museum doors like predators. Evelyn jumped into a cockpit, checking the instruments quickly. She had to familiarize herself with the ancient bird quickly. There was a very distinct possibility she would have to fight in one.

Her thoughts turned to Helo…and to Burner, her wingman. They would have been sent out to the fight, she knew it, and in her heart she prayed to all the gods she could think of that they were safe.

"You sure they'll fly?" she could hear Starbuck ask.

The Chief checked the engine before replying. "Just have to put the rad buffers in the engines and pull the gun safeties. Bigger problem is getting them over to the port launch bay."

"Why can't we use the starboard launch?"

"It's a gift shop now."

Everyone's thoughts reflected Starbuck's next words. "Frack me." Chief Tyrol nodded in agreement before yelling out to his deck hands.

"C'mon! C'mon! Let's go! We've got ships to move!"

* * *

"Is he still out there?" Laura Roslyn asked, the undersecretary of Education asked her assistant. They sat side by side, her assistant, Billy, staring out of the window. Slowly, reflecting the lights from the ship, an old viper came into view. Billy couldn't help but let out a soft sigh of relief, they weren't alone.

"Yeah," he replied, "He's still out there."

Laura nodded, her dark red hair hiding her slightly from view. "Good, because if things were really bad, he wouldn't still be out there, right? He'd be called away, wouldn't he?" She turned and gave him a funny smile. "Why am I asking you? You know less than I do about it." Billy gave her a half-hearted grin. Trying to grin back, Laura took in a deep breath and leaned over, trying to get her own glimpse of the viper. "Still, it makes me feel better that we're not alone out here."

* * *

Banging a fist into the console, Lee Adama tried to get the screen to work, only to watch as it fizzled in and out on the screen. Growling, he yelled at the equipment furiously. "Come on! Work damnit! WORK!" The display flickered once more before going black, not responding at all to any of the commands he tried. "Unbelievable," he sighed, giving up and leaning back into his seat.

His radio fizzled to life. "_Any luck over there, Apollo?_" came the voice of the pilot on the Caprican Transport. The two crafts flew together for a moment, silent in the black outreaches of the system. Flipping a switch, Lee continued the dialogue between the two ships.

"No, my navigation system is down and nothing I try is working." He slammed his fist on the control panel once more for luck.

"_To be honest, I'm kinda glad you're sticking around. Makes us all feel better just seeing you out there_." Lee let out a humorless smile.

"Yeah, well, don't get too comfortable. This old junker I'm in was meant for show, not combat. I don't even have a functioning gunsight over here. If we run into a problem, I'll do what I can to protect you, but the first sign of trouble, you pour on the speed and you run." He hoped his warning got through, clear and true. Honestly, all he could do was be the decoy and hope they made their escape nice and quick.

A nervous chuckle came over the wireless. "_Don't you worry about that, Captain. My hand hasn't left the throttle since we got the first message. Colonial Heavy 798 out_."


	4. Chapter 4

**A lot going on in this chapter, plot wise…although soon we'll see more Lee, Helo and Evelyn. As normal, I don't own BSG and am making no money from this, and for those who have reviewed…I adore you all ^^. Enjoy this chapter, I'm off to work on Closing of an Era ^^**

The CIC was a hive of activity, people talking on headsets, others typing away on old computers. Beneath the DRADIS, Commander Adama and his XO, Colonel Tigh watched the screen with stern eyes, hoping to be able to finally offer good news. Two rows above them, Dualla, the communications officer, watched as more messages printed out rapidly. Lt Gaeta leaned over her shoulder, scanning the messages through the pile as more printed out.

"What's the latest?" He asked quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear in case something was wrong.

"A lot of confusion," she replied just as soft, keeping close to him. "I keep seeing these weird reports about…equipment malfunctions."

"Why is that weird?" He asked, not quite understanding what she was trying to say.

"It's the number of malfunctions. One report said an entire Battlestar lost power just before it came into contact with the enemy. They said it was like…someone just turned off a switch." They shared a look, mirror reflections of their own confusion and terror.

* * *

Everyone was tense as they watched the DRADIS, the dots symbolizing their Viper pilots in a stern pattern. There was barely a word in the room, their eyes caught on the two red ones, indicating the enemy as it lazily flew towards the twenty friendly green ones. Apprehension was reflected in the eyes of Gaeta and Dualla, the reports of malfunctions floating in their minds.

It was seconds away from the enemy reaching the friendlies, two against twenty. Then something went wrong. The Galactica pilots scattered with no destination in mind. One...two…two ships collided, destroying themselves on impact. People winced, their hearts mourning the loss of their friends, those they had served with for years.

Boomer and Helo's dot was far back, still maintaining their position as the two Cylons reached the still scattering Vipers. It was horrific to watch, the pilots picked off so fast, it was almost incomprehensible. Soon, the only green dot that was left was the Raptor, and even that didn't take long to disappear.

* * *

Evelyn worked on the old Viper side by side with Starbuck, polishing the canopy until it glistened, crystal clear. Beside her one of the deck crew fastened a bolt, and then dropped the wrench. The large metal tool scrapped down Evelyn's leg before clattering down on the floor.

"Ow! Careful!" she scowled, before tossing the cloth towards the toolbox.

"This one's ready to fly," said a voice from the other side of the plane. Nodding, Evelyn jumped off the wing and moved towards another as the speakers let out a hum.

"…Preliminary reports indicate a thermo-nuclear device in the fifty-megaton range…" Starbuck moved out from under her Viper, staring up in shock, her pale face reflected by everyone around her. "…was detonated over Caprica City approximately thirty minutes ago…"

"Frack me…" Evelyn whispered, her thoughts turning over the number of people in just the city alone. It was silent in the bay, people dead still, waiting for more news.

"There's no report on casualties, but obviously…they will be high." Cally, one of the Chief's deck hands stood up, her hands bracing her body against the Viper.

"How many people in Caprica?" she asked absently, speaking her thoughts.

"Seven million," Kara replied grimly, her throat working as she swallowed thickly. The commander's words were too much to be true, too horrible to assimilate. How could such destruction, such a holocaust occur? How was it possible with all of their defenses?

* * *

"…Mourn Caprica later. Right now, the most important thing you can do is get this ship into the fight." Commander Adama's words were strong with his conviction. Clicking off the loudspeaker, he looked around the dead CIC, the people's stunned and horrified expressions. No-one conversed; they tried not to even think about what was said. Suddenly a shatter broke the moment; a coffee cup had slipped out of someone's hand. It was enough to get people moving, to get everyone's focus.

The CIC was a hive of activity once more.

* * *

"Kara…" Evelyn spoke up, her words adding to the gloom. "Has there been any word of Burner? Of Helo? Anyone?" She swallowed thickly, not looking at her mentor. _Helo_…

"No…no word yet."

* * *

"We've only got two left!" Boomer yelled back towards Helo as she furiously controlled the Raptor. Pressing a button, a small decoy drone dropped from the Raptor's belly. The tiny missile shaped canister raced away from the small ship, a Magnesium flare attracting one of the missile's sensors. The second on hesitated, and then continued after its original goal.

Inside the ship, the two pilots watched with growing horror and panic as the missile continued to follow them.

"Damnit!" Boomer cursed, trying to fly evasively.

"Uh…Sharon…" Helo's voice echoed in the cabin, apprehension thick.

Boomer's reply was quick and impatient. "What?"

"Check the screen ahead." His screen reflected so many contacts, that in the back of his mind, it reminded him like a field of moving stars. Tiny amounts of debris hit the ship, causing a pinging noise to echo throughout the tiny space.

"I guess we found the main fight," Boomer said in awe, unaware the missile was getting closer. A buzzer went off in the cockpit, warning the occupants that the missile managed to get a lock on them.

"MISSILE LOCK!" Helo yelled urgently. Boomer hit a switch, the remaining decoy was released. An explosion rocked the ship as its pilot swerved to miss the main brunt of it. Electronics went off madly, circuitry popping and sparking, even a small fire started.

Extinguishing the fire with her small extinguisher, Boomer straightened out the ship, her eyes darting over the instruments. "Okay…okay…we're still here…Helo? Hey, are you okay?" She looked over at her shoulder. Lying prone in his chair, Helo nodded, dazed.

"Present," he replied groggily.

"Stay with me," Boomer ordered, her eyes turned back to the windshield. Helo looked down at the bleeding wound in his leg and noticed the breach in the hull. Sealing it off, he reached for the medical kit stashed underneath his consol and bound his wound, praying silently that they don't get another hull breach.

"We have a fuel leak," Boomer said, flicking a few switches. "We're going to have to put down to repair it…"

"Lotta company between us and home…" He replied quietly, looking out towards the Cylon Basestars and patrols.

"Yeah," she replied, thinking for a moment. Grabbing the controls, she hit the throttle and the damaged Raptor leapt forward. Guiding the ship straight ahead, she cut the power and the Raptor grew dark.

"So we coast?" Helo asked, hobbling forward to look out of the canopy.

"Best way to avoid attracting attention. No power signature, go into a straight line—unless someone gets close enough to actually see us, we'll look like a chunk of debris on sensors. I think we have enough inertia to make it to Caprica's ionosphere, and then we'll power up and find a place to land."

"Nice," he replied, a little pained. "Nice thinking there…I think we can officially stop calling you a Rook now, Lieutenant."


	5. Chapter 5

**Don't own BSG! Nor am I making any money from this. However, I hope you guys are enjoying this..again more plot..but soon a breather to learn more about Evelyn ^^ thank you to those who have reviewed, and I hope to hear more comments soon.**

Coloniel Heavy 798 floated softly in the dark outreaches of space, like a leaf on water. Serene, the blue engine afterburners fired brightly at intervals, pushing the ship towards some unknown destination. Beside it, a tiny vessel, an old Mark 2 Viper flew beside it in parade, its size compared to the other ship tiny and insignificant, almost like a mosquito. No outward sign was given to show the terror and panic that was held inside.

In the cockpit of the large ship, the pilot looked at a printout with dismay, the news cataclysmic. The co-pilots glanced at him, curious to what he was reading. They all expected bad news. Before anyone could ask the question that danced on the tips of their tongues, a soft knock sounded at the cockpit door.

Reaching out to open it, the Pilot gave Laura a terrified look as she slipped into the tiny space, his face pale and sweaty. "Y-yes?" he asked, a tremble shaking his normally strong voice.

Her eyes were sympathetic as she gazed into his own, his pain reflected back at him. "One of the passengers has, um, a short-wave wireless…" She swallowed thickly. "They—uh—heard a report that Caprica's been nuked. Is-um-is there any truth in it?"

The pilot hesitated, his gaze flickering down to the shaking paper before going back up to hers once more. "Caprica…and three other colonies." The words were like a death knell to the woman. Grabbing the paper he held out to her, she slumped into the co-pilot's seat, the breath knocked out of her. Sniffling, he continued to speak. "I guess…I-um-I guess I should make an announcement…or something…" Laura glanced up at him, noting his shock. Rallying herself, she stood up, grasping his hand comfortingly.

"I'll do it. I'm a member of the cabinet. Guess I had better start acting like one." Exhaling loudly, her expression grew thoughtful. "I need to…to contact the Ministry of Civil Defense. See what I can do to help."

The pilot nodded absently. His next words almost muttered to himself. "…Can't believe this is really happening…"

Laura let out an almost cynical laugh. "Yeah, it's been a helluva couple of days." He gave her a quizzical look. Shaking her head, she walked out, her shoulders squared and ready to deliver the catastrophic news.

* * *

"Viper One-Nine, clear forward."

Taking a deep breath, Evelyn flicked a few switches before her eyes landed on her decorations. Two talismans and a locket dangled from a small, empty space on her control panel. Touching the silver medallion, she sent a prayer for her mother's soul to the gods, her blue eyes fierce and determined. In her mind the image of her smiling mother's face gave her strength, the cylons would pay.

Continuing her pre-launch checks another face came to mind, the face of her wingman, Burner. Dead from the first wave, Evelyn was faced for the first time a battle without him since being on Galactica. Known for his habit of setting his afterburners on fire after landing, he had been a good friend to her, a steady influence. She couldn't stop the niggle of doubt with her ability without him beside her.

But she squashed it. She had to fight…for him…for her mother…for everyone…

The launch officer made her final checks. "…Nav-Con green…interval check…thrust positive and…steady. Goodbye." The old style Viper roared down the tube in a matter of seconds. Streaking away from the Battlestar, it turned and joined up with ten more Vipers, space borne and assembling in a defensive position.

* * *

"Galactica…Viper One-Seven. Ready."

Starbuck sat in the cockpit of the Viper, geared up and eager to join the others.

"Viper One-Seven…clear forward…Nav-Con green…interval check…thrust positive, and…" The launch officer made her final check and noticed something wrong. "…fluctuating. Abort launch." Kara's temper was right on the verge of boiling over. Biting her lip, she used the pain to gain back some of her control and deactivates various controls in the cockpit.

"Viper One-Seven, copy that. Throttle down, tube safe."

The hatch behind the plane opened, revealing Tyrol and two of his deck crew racing in. Popping the Canopy, Kara pulled off her helmet, glaring death at the Chief as he pulled off the engine cowling and began poking around the inside of the Viper.

"Three Fracking aborts, Chief," she snarled at him viciously.

"We're on it, sir," he said before turning to one of his hands. "It's the pressure reg valve again."

"We should pull it," came Socinus' reply.

The other deck hand, Prosna shook his head. "Don't have a spare."

Before he could say anymore, the overhead speakers hummed.

"Attention. Inbound DRADIS contact, rated highly probable enemy fighter. All hands stand-by for battle maneuvers."

Starbuck looked down at the deck gang. "LET'S GO!" she yelled, eager to get out and join the battle. Slamming on her helmet, she listened to the wireless chatter while Tyrol struggled to fix the engine. Tense and ready to leap out and strangle someone, Kara barely restrained herself, the chatter causing her to worry.

"This is Speedster, I have lead. All Vipers form up on me."

"What if we just pulled the valve and bypass the whole system?" Socinus asked.

"Speedster, Galactica, Contact bearing 234-198, speed 7 decimal 5, range 601 and closing."

Prosna shook his head. "Can't do that, the relay'll blow a—"

"Copy that, we've acquired the target." There was a slight pause in the radio. "I have weapons lock. Firing."

"It'll hold, I'm telling you. I put that relay in myself," Socinus replied heatedly.

"No good—Damn! Look at him move." Kara tore the helmet off her head, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"How much longer, Chief?"

Evelyn's voice came over the radio. "Voodoo…I can't…I can't get a lock…"

"Pull the valve." Chief's voice cut over Evelyn's voice.

* * *

Battlestar Galactica was an old ship. A veteran from a battle that still resonated with the people. By the Helm Console, Commander Adama watched the battle through the DRADIS, his eyes intent, focused. Four Helmsmen sat near him, in front of controls that moved the ship. In front of each of them was two handgrip controllers which controlled eight thruster burners at various parts of the ship. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Adama looked over at his XO, by the tactical console. He needed to move the ship, he needed to keep the people around him safe.

"Engines all ahead full!" he shouted over everyone's chatter, including the wireless.

"Ahead full, sir," Colonel Tigh reported. "Engines report ahead full."

Adama nodded and turned his attention to the helmsmen. "Bow up half, forward right one quarter, stern left full."

* * *

In the launch tube, Starbuck screamed at the deck gang to hurry. She could hear people she had spent years serving with dying, knowing that if she had been out there, their deaths would have been avoided. Socinus and Prosna gently pulled the recalcitrant valve out of the Viper engine, all under the watchful eye of Chief Tyrol. Replacing the cowling, Prosna gave the all clear signal.

"Ready!" he yelled.

"Clear the tube!" the Chief yelled, and the gang raced out as the hatch began to close. Muttering angrily to herself, Kara replaced her helmet and began her start up procedures for, hopefully, the last time.

"Galactica, Viper One-Seven ready!"

"Interval check, thrust positive and…steady. Goodbye." The Viper roared down the Launch tube, eager to join the fight.

* * *

Evelyn's heart pounded in her ear as she lost herself to the thrum of action. It was strangely quiet, or at least she thought so as she flipped the Viper end for end to chase one of the Cylons. Muffled, she could hear herself talking, telling the Battlestar her stats, aiming and firing, only to miss the enemy.

It was so slow…why? She could see each movement, she could feel herself adjusting and countering it, but it was just so slow.

A ship shot past her…Starbuck…


	6. Chapter 6

**BSG...no matter how many times I watch you, you'll always be an inspiration. A longer chapter than what I'm used to, but I do hope you enjoy it. Please review and you'll get a lot of love from me.**

**I do not own BattleStar Galactica.**

"...Including the colonies of Caprica, Picon, Aeries and Tauron," Laura reported gravely, standing in front of the entirety of the passengers of the liner. Shock and horror reigned supreme on the vessel. The utter devastation was, to put plainly, incomprehensible. Nothing, not even in the first Cylon war, was anything of this magnitude. It was horrific, the knowledge that everything you had ever known was completely gone...forever.

The people were scared. They had no clue how to react to the news. Like a wave, they rose up, almost in one voice as they tried to clamour over one another to be heard.

One woman, a blonde, middle aged woman dressed in a grey suit, rocked in her chair. Her hands tore at her once perfectly styled hair as she muttered denials at the news. Others weren't so composed.

"Geminon? Is there anything about Geminon?"Came one man's panicked cry. Another woman kept screaming that she needed to get home. It was nothing but utter chaos.

Laura Roslin tried to calm everyone down. "Please," she tried once without any reaction. "Please. PLEASE!" It quietened down, however, tension was still evident in the small cabin. "I'm trying to contact the government right now and get more information for everyone. In the mean time, we should be prepared for an extended stay on this ship." She took in a deep breath and pushed her glasses a little further up her nose. "Okay. So," pointing to a man, she began her instructions. "You, you...and you, can you please make an inventory of the emergency supplies and rations."

"—Hey! Wait a minute!" the Public Relations Officer that was aboard Battlestar Galactica stood up in protest. "Who put you in charge?"

Sighing, Laura gave him her full attention. There really wasn't time to deal with the stupid questions, in her mind. However, people needed the reassurance, even if it was flimsy at best. "That's a good question. The answer is no one. But this is a government ship and I am the senior government official, so I guess that makes me in charge." Her eyes narrowed a little, noting that he could be trouble before moving back to her instructions. "You and you—go down into the cargo spaces and see about setting up living space so we can get out of this cabin. Everyone else, please sit tight and...Try to relax."

Those who she had pointed out, disappeared quickly to their tasks, grateful that they had something to do, rather than wait for news, like the rest of them. Despite the other's relief, Doral glared at the woman in charge. Ignoring him, Laura moved to sit next to her assistant, handing over a small piece of paper. "This is the passenger manifest," she began, quietly, however, she quickly noticed that his hands were trembling, while hers was steady and firm. "Are you alright?" Laura asked gently.

His baby face looked at her, seriously, even while he stuttered over his words. "Uh, yeah...I...my parents...uh...my parents moved to Picon three months ago," he started, taking in a shuddering breath. "...to be closer to my sisters—and their families—their grandkids..." Billy trailed off, not sure what else to say. Laura in turn, nodded. What else was there she could say? Billy, however, swallowed thickly, holding everything in tightly while he looked for something else to talk about. "You...uh...have family?"

"No," Laura said with a sad smile. "Just me."

* * *

With an almost sonic boom, Kara's viper shot out of the ship's tube and raced towards the fight. Everywhere around her were other vipers, scattered and confused. Frustrated, she zipped through the mess, pushing her plane as fast as it could go. They needed her help—and her crazy. Voodoo was the closest at getting a shot, but not quite there. Shooting past her, Kara engaged with the enemy.

Suddenly, the Cylon fighter turned back towards the Galactica, a sliding door opening to reveal five missiles with distinctive war heads. Galactica would see what was going on, Kara thought on faith. Flicking on her communications, she gave out an order, sharply. "This is Starbuck. Keep Him boxed in. I got a shot right up the gut!"

"_Copy that. You've got the best angle_," Speedster replied back through the wireless, the constant sounds of weapons firing beat a tattoo through the speaker. Suddenly the Cylon flipped again, its visor opening. A bright red light washed over Kara's Viper. Was this a new weapon that knocked out the other Battlestars? However, there was nothing happening, no loss of systems, no sudden explosions, just nothing.

"What the hell was that?" she breathed. A tone sounded throughout the cockpit. Weapons Lock. Squeezing the gun trigger, Kara let out a volley of bullets. Three missiles shot out of the Cylon Fighter, right before it exploded. Firing again, she tried to destroy all the missiles, exploding two. "Shit!" she cursed as the third raced past her. "Galactica! You've got an inbound nuke!"

Voodoo's Viper followed the missile. A spray of bullets fired out of her guns as she got closer to the missile. However, they missed, hitting the Galactica's hull. Tearing away, Voodoo pulled back to Kara's position. _"Voodoo- I'm sorry, but I missed._"

"All Vipers. BREAK—BREAK—BREAK!" Kara ordered, ignoring her protégé. All the Vipers turn and zoom back out towards black space as the Galactica twists and turns to avoid a direct hit. However, the manoeuvres aren't enough. The nuclear warhead exploded less than a mile away from Galactica's starboard bow. The resulting energy boom emitted a blinding white light.

* * *

Evelyn groaned in her cockpit, her Viper spinning wildly. She had been too close to the ship, and the explosion knocked her for six. Adrenaline had her heart pumping wildly. What had happened? Was the Galactica alright? All around her, instruments sparked and hissed. Her systems flickered in and out. Giving the screen a sharp tap, Evelyn watched impatiently as her mini DRADIS came back online.

It didn't take her long to right her plane and steer it back towards the Galactica.

The Battlestar spun slowly in space, as though no one was steering the vessel. It was clearly not under control. The Port Flight Pod was partially crumpled. Evelyn stared in shock at the sheer damage that was caused. How could one warhead destroy so much? Gasses vented, with fuel, air and other noxious fumes into space from various openings in the hull. Noticing a Viper doing a fly by, Evelyn tried to get her wireless to work again.

"_Galactica—Starbuck_," came the garbled transmission. It was hissy and filled with a lot of white noise. "_Galactica—Starbuck. If you're reading me, the Forward Section of the Port Flight Pod has sustained heavy damage._" Evelyn looked over her shoulder towards the other Vipers, noticing their regrouping as Starbuck circled the damaged Battlestar. Another section of the bulkhead collapsed, violently venting debris into the black. Swallowing, she turned her viper back towards the other planes, taking her place as they waited for word from the Galactica.

"_Galactica,_" came Starbuck's voice again, this time a little clearer. _"You're getting violent decompressions all along the Port Flight Pod. Do you read me? Galactica!_"

"Baskania (evil eye)," Evelyn breathed, reaching towards her talismans and stroking the blue glass bead. In Saggitarion, she remembered as a child, if something bad happened right after a good thing, it was considered to be the act of an evil eye. The blue bead painted like an eye would often be sold as a talisman against it. With everything that had happened, Evelyn vowed that the little blue bead would never leave her again.

The Viper pilots watched together as the Galactica slowly began to right itself. Starbuck's voice repeated her message over and over. "_Alright, boys and girls_," Kara switched her attention back to the pilots. "Expect an extended stay out here until Galactica gets her bearings. Keep an eye out for more Cylon birds and let's protect our girl."

In groups of three, they split up, circling their home protectively. Three was considered lucky to Evelyn. However, she knew it could turn the other way. Frequently she could be heard whispering after bad events, 'may it not occur in three.' Burner, her wingman, used to say that it made him feel better when she did that, even if he didn't put stock in her mysticism. Gods, she missed him. He should have been with her, at her side, not dead in the vastness of space. She would give anything to have him back, up to and including her own life. A soul for a soul.

She flew low, near the damaged flight pods, Speedster and Groomy a few metres above her. It was horrific. Fires were still burning, gasses still leaking. Casualties would be catastrophic. Fires balls suddenly roared out in front of her.

"Whoa!" she cried, flipping her bird end from end before banking to the left. The two others followed her just as quickly. More flames and debris followed their path. Evelyn let out a cry as a frozen human body floated past her canopy.

Then it was quiet.

There was no more gas, no more flames. Battlestar Galactica had righted itself.

* * *

The light was golden, the grass a constant rolling green as the wind pushed it down gently. It would have been nice, if it weren't for the constant booming and the mushroom clouds blocking the sun. This was Caprica, ruined and taken over. It was Cylon territory now, not the colonies. Boomer's raptor glinted in what was left of the sun's light. Caprica City was just out of their vision, but they knew it was close.

They were on an abandoned emergency airstrip. There were no more planes or ships. Hopefully they had gotten to safety, but the most likely bet was they were destroyed by the Cylons long before they got out of the planet's atmosphere. Helo tightened the blood soaked bandage on his leg as he rested against the Raptor's hull. It was a shit of a situation, something he wasn't prepared for. Underneath the ship, his pilot worked hard, patching the fuel lines within the engine mounting. He just wanted to get off the gods forsaken planet and get back to Galactica.

Helo thought about the ship for a while, wondering if it survived the invasion. They had been pretty far out in space, a long ways away from any planet. Knowing the Old Man, he would have regrouped when they got their message and found a way to get munitions to rejoin the fight.

He thought of all his co-pilots, of Starbuck, and her little protégé, Voodoo. They were both a little crazy, but he trusted them in a dog fight. How was Voodoo handling the loss of her wingman, Burner? He knew that she relied on him to steady her, and to control her mystical superstitions in a social setting. What would she have said or done if she were here, instead of Boomer? Another boom echoed in the distance.

"That's six," He stated, knowing that Boomer would look at the newest cloud reaching towards the sky. "How are you coming on that fuel line?"

"Almost there," came the strained voice of his pilot. "We'll be airborne soon."

"Good. Gotta get back into the fight. Galactica will need us."

"Yeah," Boomer muttered, "back in the fight." He knew that she didn't think there was anything worth fighting for, that it would be an impossibility for a win after seeing all those Battlestars destroyed above the planet. Suddenly, in the distance, there was movement. Moving forward, Helo squinted, trying to see what it was. Eyes widening, he pulled out his side arm.

"Sharon. Get your side arm."

In the process of crawling out from underneath the vessel, she looked at him before spotting what he was seeing. She stood up quickly and pulled out her gun. A mob of people were racing across the distant hill, right for them. Fifty odd desperate people, some of them barely dressed. As they got closer, Helo could see some of them were injured.

Desperate people were dangerous.

* * *

Colonial Heavy 798 cruised through the vastness of space. It was drifting there, unsure where to go, with the war. Suddenly, a Cylon Raider jumped near the transport, firing a missile before jumping away. It rushed towards the ship, nothing there to stop it from destroying everyone inside.

Then there was a Viper, Lee's Viper, roaring in front of the missile, its engines blazing with heat and afterburners. It twisted and turned, enticing the missile to follow its trail, rather than going for its intended victim. The exhaust flame was almost right into the missile.

Lee looked over his shoulder, hoping that the manoeuvre would work and that the innocent people inside the transport vessel would survive. Checking his instruments, he judged the moment...

"Ok, Colonial 798, break on my mark...three...two...one...mark."

In simultaneous synchronisation, the transport and Viper turn in opposite directions. The missile wavered for a moment before following the smaller plane. Glancing back constantly, Lee kept watch on the missile as it tracked him.

"_Thank you, Apollo. What happens now_?" The Transport Pilot's voice was heavy with relief.

A humourless smirk graced upon the Captain's cheeks. "I have no idea," he replied. A beep sounded from his computer screen, the fuel gage inched closer into the red. In a snap decision, he flipped the bird, end from end, firing what little ammunition he had. Miss. Miss. Miss.

Then Boom! The missile exploded, right between the Viper and transport ship. The blast hits the Viper, the force sending the small bird tumbling. Lee groaned and grunted, trying to get the machine back into his control. Finally, he righted himself, igniting the engine. With a splutter and a low hum, the Viper died, the fuel gage hitting empty. Hitting the computer a few times, he cursed his luck. Flicking on the wireless, Lee sent out an emergency call.

"Krypter—krypter—krypter. His is Apollo calling to any Colonial vessel. I'm declaring an emergency. Out of fuel and need assistance."


End file.
